


Close Call

by tangerinecakes



Category: Original Work, Wolfsbane - Fandom - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29581476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinecakes/pseuds/tangerinecakes
Summary: Larkan mage hunters are after Elias, and this time they come too close to finding him.
Relationships: Bastian Mair/Elias Falco
Kudos: 1





	Close Call

Bastian couldn't be certain if it was his own heart or the heart of the man next to him that drummed in his ears like a call to arms, accompanied by a much lazier, steadier thrumm. He had his eyes turned to watch the heavily hanging early morning fog slowly moving across the field outside, only visible to him through the small crack on the wooden wall. There was the slightest amount of lightness spread from the horizon towards the blackness of the night sky, making the silent late autumn landscape more than a little eerie.

Elias shifted inside the tight hold of his arms, and Bastian squeezed his shoulder lightly, the curl of his finger being the only movement he made.  _ Not yet _ , the gesture signaled.  _ Quiet _ .

The fog swirled outside, shifting away as a shape moved through it, silent as a shadow. The moon's pale glow was all but dead, but it remained alive long enough to run a cold glimmer along the sharp steel in the shadow's hand. Two other shapes parted from the first one, fanning out to the sides as soundlessly as the first one moved towards the barely standing barn Bastian and Elias were hiding. A string of curses ran through the mercenary’s mind and he moved his head, turning his gaze from the crack in the wall to the mage pressed against his chest.

_ “We have to hide” _ , Bastian whispered with his mouth so close to Eli’s ear that his lips moved against it. On countless occasions brushing skin against skin like that would have sent fire through both of their bodies, and Elias’ blue eyes would have looked at Bastian’s dark ones with a fierce hunger. Now they were wide, angry and afraid, and the only reaction Elias offered was the smallest of nods.

The mercenary looked around the barn. He had been on the other end of this situation before, circling in search of escaped mages, prepared to shackle them and drag them back to Larka. The last time he had done that had been when he had been recruited to help hunt down Elias, and as he had been travelling with his companion and the captured mage he had decided that he wouldn’t do that anymore. So, here he was now, looking for a place in the dark building to hide the one most precious to him before the hunter stepped in.

The same previous experience offered Bastian priceless knowledge on the techniques of these hunters, so he nudged Elias towards a tall pile of dusty hay, gesturing to the scarf around his neck. The mage nodded, pulled the scarf over his mouth and nose, and crawled into the pile of hay, careful to not set off too much of the dust.

Reaching to his belt Bastian wrapped his fingers around the scabbard of his sword and slowly pulled the blade out, making sure that his glove muffled the sound of steel moving. The weapon wasn’t his first choice as he preferred heavier ones, but the bastard sword was finely crafted, a balanced weapons he now held with both of his hands as he pressed his back into the black shadows close to the barn’s door, eyes both on the hay where the mage was hiding and the spot where he knew the hunter would appear.

And soon enough he did. Soft-soled boots made no sound when they stepped on hay scattered on the floor, and the way the hunter’s dark clothes clung to his for made certain no noises came from his movements.

Bastian stared at him from his place in the shadow, every muscle in his body tense and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. The way the hunter moved spoke of meticulous training and experience, and Bastian could imagine how his movements in combat would be much like an intricate dance, a combination of steps and swirls made deadly by the blade in his hands. Bastian watched as the hunter circled the barn slowly, peering behind crates and into partially broken down stalls that had once housed animals.He was systematic, and Bastian could see glimpses of the tip of his shaved chin at times when small amounts of pale light made its way under his deep hood.

As the hunter stopped by the pile of hay, Bastian’s grip on his sword tightened. He could feel his heart stuttering inside his chest, and was barely able to hold back from grinding his teeth loudly together.  _ Too close, too close _ , his mind screamed, but still he didn’t move.

He couldn’t, not yet, not without risking them both. Bastian didn’t know where the two other hunters were, and even if he could beat them in a fight he knew these people would most likely employ tactics designed to take opponents by surprise and deny them any kind of advantageous footing. He couldn’t risk it; couldn’t risk drawing attention to them, couldn’t risk losing Elias. The rest of the group, staying a few towns over, didn’t trust him to begin with, and if he failed to protect the mage they held so dearly they never would. Bastian stifled a swallow and stood still, barely blinking and waiting for the equally still hunter to move.

Soon, he did.

With a flash, the slim blade on the hunter’s hand was raised, sharp end pointed downwards at the pile of hay. Still no sound rose from him, not even when he twisted his foot to gain more leverage into the vicious strike he was preparing for.

Bastian’s eyes widened as a cold stone dropped into his stomach. The trained reflexes of a mercenary kicked in and he was lurching forward before he even realized it, when there was a high, sharp call from outside.

The hunter’s head snapped around and, after a split-second’s consideration he dashed out of the door, right by where Bastian was again scrambling to flatten himself as good against the wall as he could.

A beat, another one.

And then he moved, sheathing the sword and hurrying to the hay, pushing his arms in there and pulling Elias out. The mage seemed confused, dazed even, but Bastian didn’t care; he tugged the scarf down from his face and kissed him, again and again, hands both holding the smaller man tightly and running through his hair, sending hay down to the floor. A relieved sob made Bastian tremble, and Elias wrapped his arms around him, holding him through it and through the countless of kisses they shared.

_ “We need to go” _ , the mage murmured against Bastian’s lips, and the mercenary nodded, finally getting up and helping the other man to his feet from the floor as well. Holding Eli’s hand tightly in his own Bastian guided him behind his back as he peeked out from the open barn door, dark eyes scanning the foggy morning slowly.

There was more light now, the darkness was quickly receding and the fog was turning into mist, moisture on the leaves of the plants growing on the wild field. No shadows, no glimmer of blades made to pierce through the hearts of those who didn’t know their place and attempted to run and couldn’t be contained and controlled like so many.

Glancing back over his shoulder Bastian nodded, and then they ran through the mist as silently and quickly as they could, after yet another close call.


End file.
